Movements of the Imagination
by piano-psychopath18
Summary: While in the bath, Kanda's imagination gets away from him, and he can do nothing but surrender and enjoy his fantasies.  Warning, contains/is: masturbation; lemon-ish; YAOI. If you don't like it, don't read it!


**A/N:** I'm not telling who Kanda is fantasizing about. That's up to you to decide. Also, if enough people ask me to I may just continue it, so you can all find out where this is going. Please review guys, it's always appreciated, and it may just make some very good things happen. Heh heh.

_He_ /_ him_ /_ his_ refers to the mystery person Kanda is thinking about, while **bold words** are Kanda's actual thoughts.

Enjoy!

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><p>He leaned over the side of the tub and turned off the water. Kanda Yuu stood in his bathroom and stared at the barely steaming water. To most people he would have seemed bored, but truly he was just enjoying the fact that he finally managed to get some time to relax. Alone.<p>

He slid his hands up to the top button of his shirt and began to slowly undress. He brushed a hand across his chest, and he couldn't help but wonder how it would feel if it were _his_ hand. What it would be like if they were _his_ hands gliding over his abdomen and pushing his shirt off his shoulders. _His _hands skimming down his toned arms, chasing his sleeves all the way down and past his fingers. **Magnificent**, he thought, answering his own question. He reflected on the slid of the smooth fabric and the sensation of his thumbs tracing down the sides of his legs as he removed his pants. He was left only in his dark boxers, which soon followed suit and joined the pile of clothes left irreverently on the bathroom floor.

He stepped into the tub and groaned infinitesimally as the hot water relaxed his muscles. Kanda closed his eyes and tried to imagine that the heat enveloping him had been generated by _his_ body, and that those arms wrapped around him were _his_, and not his own.

He opened his eyes and slid his gaze down over his abs, across his pelvis and down his thighs, then back up to rest of the small patch of fine black hair and his growing erection. **No. Stop**, he commanded himself, feeling slightly ashamed for the thoughts going through his mind. **Just stop it.**

He reached for the soap and began to wash himself. As he washed, he wished they were _his_ fingers smoothing over his body rather than his own. He wondered what it would feel like to kiss _him_. To have _his_ lips crashing against his own, and to slip his tongue into _his_ mouth and taste _him_, and have _him_ kiss back, have _his_ hands caress and fondle him. Just as he found himself doing to his soap. **Good Lord, I am such a **_**pervert**_**!** he thought as he dropped the soap. But he couldn't help it. These ideas, these irresistible ideas, were overwhelming him. Both his instincts and his hormones screamed at him to forget self-control and just let go. Kanda imagined that it was _him_ whispering in his ear to let go, not himself, and because _he_ asked, Kanda gave in.

His right hand ghosted over his abdomen, fingers exploring the valleys created by his defined muscles before beginning to gently stroke himself. Imagining it was _his_ hand, he let out a moan. He brought his other hand up and pulled his hair free from the hair-tie. He smiled softly as it fell about his shoulders. **It's been too long since I've done this.**

Again imagining that it was _his_ hand, he lightly traced circles around the tip using his thumb, enjoying every second of this rare pleasure. The combination of sheer bliss and conjured intimacy was intoxicating to him.

He began to stoke himself again, slowly and rhythmically. Wishing with all his might that the hand creating this delicious friction was _his_, he continued to move his hand, throwing in the occasional twist on the way up. He groaned loudly and threw his head back, coherent thought no longer possible.

With a whispered plea, _his_ hand would move faster, but still maintain that tantalizing rhythm. Kanda could feel his orgasm coming, but forced himself to keep the pace he had set, just to make the illusion he had created for himself seem all the more real.

Finally, Kanda came as he dragged his fingernails up his penis. The pleasure of release was too much, and Kanda screwed his eyes shut and cried out _his_ name.

After allowing the stars dancing in his vision to recede, he sat up and sighed, retrieving the soap from the bottom of the tub. Washing the last of his semen off, he stood, grabbed a towel, steeped out of the tub and watched the water swirl down the drain. Kicking his dirty clothes aside, he walked to his bedroom and but on a clean pair of boxers and lay down in bed. Closing his eyes, he desperately wished that his fantasy had been real.

**It'll never happen.** He sighed again and rolled over to sleep.

Suddenly there was a knock at his door, and with no regard for decency, he threw back the covers and padded across the floor in only his boxers. Resting his hand on the door handle, he momentarily wondered what in God's name someone would want from him at this hour.

Opening the door, Kanda was met by the harsh light of the hallway and _his_ now-blushing face.

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><p><strong>AN: **The review button is very shy, but desperately in need of love. (Plus it thinks you're hot. *wink wink*) Go on, click it.


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